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Updated: May 5, 2025
He is too keenly intelligent, too sharply sensitive, successfully to endure. He is a shadow of his former self. His cheeks have fallen in. Dark circles of suffering are under his eyes, while his eyes, Latin and English intermingled, are cavernously sunken and as bright-burning as if aflame with fever.
And when we did go thiswise for seven good hours, we were come nigh opposed to the bright-burning fire-hill that did be offward in the sea, and had made me a warm light in that time when I did sleep in the tree, as you do remember.
And odd whiles I did lie with mine eyes half to open, and did look very dreamful upward among the dark branches of the tree, as they did show black and pretty against the redness of the shining that came from the sea; for there was stood a great and bright-burning fire-hill in that part of the sea that lay off the shore from me.
Towards noon the fish ceased to rise, the pool probably being fished out. After luncheon I again left camp with my rifle in the vain hope of sighting a caribou. The gloom of night was beginning to gather when I returned. As I approached, stepping noiselessly on the mossy carpet of the forest, I saw Hubbard sitting alone by the bright-burning fire, mending his moccasins.
Then, just as suddenly as if a voice had spoken to him from the very grass at his feet, there flashed into his mind the words that the good old Scot had spoken by the camp-fire the previous night "There's a Hand that could guide the frailest birch-bark through Niagara." Bob remembered, and hope sprang up in his heart with a bright-burning flame.
The old-fashioned cellaret sideboard, against the wall at the end, supported a large bright-burning brass lamp, with raised foxes round the rim, whose effulgent rays shed a brilliant halo over eight black hats and two white ones, whereof the four middle ones were decorated with evergreens and foxes' brushes. The dinner table was crowded, not covered.
It was fine overhead and the air was cold and bracing one of those marvelous New York winter nights which have the tonic of both sea and mountains and an exhilaration, in addition, from the intense bright-burning life of the mighty city. For more than a week there had been a steady downpour of snow, sleet and finally rain. Thus, the women of the streets had been doing almost no business.
Stanhope resting comfortably in an easy-chair in front of the bright-burning fire. Dora herself came to the door in answer to their ring. "Why, mamma, it's the Rovers!" she cried, as she shook hands, "I never expected to see you to-night, in such a snowstorm. How kind of Captain Putnam to let you come."
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